This beautiful book, written in 1903, is about race and America. It is a collection of essays; some history, some critique, some stories, some journalThis beautiful book, written in 1903, is about race and America. It is a collection of essays; some history, some critique, some stories, some journals. They are gathered together to form a comprehensive picture of life for the African American at the turn of the 20th century. It’s author, W.E.B. De Bois was an American sociologist, historian, civil rights activist, Pan-Africanist, author, writer and editor.
Reading this book shook me and, more than once, left me speechless. However, this book is not a shocking book, full of the horrors of racism and America’s dark past. What shook me was the shear strength of character, integrity and humanity of De Bois. His prose is elegant, his observations keen and balanced, his conclusions measured, his stance humble. However, he is not passive, not content with the status quo and not very interested with sacrificial compromise.
After the Egyptian and Indian, the Greek and Roman, the Teuton and Mongolian, the Negro is a sort of seventh son, born with a veil, and gifted with second-sight in this American world,—a world which yields him no true self-consciousness, but only lets him see himself through the revelation of the other world. It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his two-ness,—an American, a Negro… two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder.
The history of the American Negro is the history of this strife, — this longing to attain self-conscious manhood, to merge his double self into a better and truer self.
Du Bois has much and more to say about race in America over 100 years later. Similar to Between the world and me, it builds an unshakable picture of life for people of color in the United States. DuBois describes the internal mindset and self image that has developed in a culture with the baggage America has with race. This clearer understanding forced me to wrestle with my own self image and and acknowledge the role being white plays in my understanding of the world. That is why I find this book so important. Genuine opportunities for personal insight as a result of the lived perspective of another person are a gift. I am extremely thankful for the gift that I found in this book.
What a surprising gem of a book. I loved how most of the stories tweak some foundational underpinning of what it means to be human and explores how thWhat a surprising gem of a book. I loved how most of the stories tweak some foundational underpinning of what it means to be human and explores how that change would play out. I also really enjoyed the cadence of several stories as well. The short, couple paragraph vignettes made it surprising easy to bounce around some of the ideas he was exploring in my own head. ...more
Just Mercy is an autobiography of Bryan Stevenson, a criminal justice lawyer who founded the Equal Justice Initiative. As he explained it to Rosa ParkJust Mercy is an autobiography of Bryan Stevenson, a criminal justice lawyer who founded the Equal Justice Initiative. As he explained it to Rosa Parks, the EJI is:
Well, I have a law project called the Equal Justice Initiative, and we’re trying to help people on death row. We’re trying to stop the death penalty, actually. We’re trying to do something about prison conditions and excessive punishment. We want to free people who’ve been wrongly convicted. We want to end unfair sentences in criminal cases and stop racial bias in criminal justice. We’re trying to help the poor and do something about indigent defense and the fact that people don’t get the legal help they need. We’re trying to help people who are mentally ill. We’re trying to stop them from putting children in adult jails and prisons. We’re trying to do something about poverty and the hopelessness that dominates poor communities.
In this book, he tells the stories of the people he has helped over the course of his career. Innocent men and men with mental disabilities put on death row. Women wrongfully imprisoned. Children tried and imprisoned as adults. These are just a few.
In their broken state, they were judged and condemned by people whose commitment to fairness had been broken by cynicism, hopelessness, and prejudice.
I will not lie, this book is a very hard read. At times, I found myself crying with a heart full of sadness and anger. I’m talking shoulder shaking sloppy crying. Yet, I also found myself shedding tears of hope, found in a new understanding of the profound connectedness of our humanity. This book left me a mess and I would not have it any other way. Profound joy and hope cannot be experienced without earth shaking sorrow and despair. Bryan gives you many stories that, if left on their own, would lead you to despair. But every one is accompanied by his tireless compassion, unshakable desire for justice and deep well of mercy. It’s in the juxtaposition that the book makes its most memorable and profound statements.
I reflected on how mass imprisonment has littered the national landscape with carceral monuments of reckless and excessive punishment and ravaged communities with our hopeless willingness to condemn and discard the most vulnerable among us. I told the congregation that Walter’s case had taught me that the death penalty is not about whether people deserve to die for the crimes they commit. The real question of capital punishment in this country is, Do we deserve to kill?
This book is a masterpiece. It leaves you with so much to consider and process. It's filled with hope and despair, of brokenness and restoration, and This book is a masterpiece. It leaves you with so much to consider and process. It's filled with hope and despair, of brokenness and restoration, and of a multitude of other ways to be conflicted. ...more
Loading...
